Shocking Revelations
by mokona-pyuh
Summary: Merlin had had dreams of Arthur finding out the truth - or, rather, nightmares. He has probably imagined a hundred scenarios for what would happen. The how, the why, the aftermath... Somehow, it doesn't quite happen like he thought it would.


**Merlin is not mine, you know the drill.**

 **No pairings.**

 **Enjoy.**

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 **Revelations**

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When Merlin imagined his magic getting revealed, it was always either very heroic, either very dramatic. Sometimes a bit of both. With a hint of pathetic.

In his mind, there would be screaming, circumstances, guards taking him to the dungeons, more screaming, possibly a threat to take care of first – he would do his duty no matter what. There would be accusations, loud and angry, or betrayed whispers, and demands of explanations, cries and screams and perhaps even punches. Sometimes, he imagined that Arthur would beat him to death. Or not even pause to think about it, and run him through with his blade.

Dramatic. Heroic. Tragic. Really, all in all, he always saw the revelation like something that would be an explosion of negative if intense feelings and actions.

Which is why, to be honest, he was left a bit dumbfounded when it took more of the awkward, pathetic and _really_ annoying turn. Like Arthur having the _worst_ god damn timing of the _entire planet, seriously !_

It had begun like this. Arthur had barged into Merlin's room – as per usual. He was ranting about useless and late menservants – still as per usual. It was between lunch hour and training – not unusual either. And there were five guys in Merlin's room. Two of them were clearly dead, on the floor. One was screaming silently as he collided with the wall – only for his skull to crack, and not to move again. And the two others were charging at Merlin, with weapons in their hands, screaming something that once more Arthur couldn't hear. Which is where it became slightly awkward.

"What the-" Arthur began, quite eloquently, somehow breaking whatever enchantment was keeping the commotion oddly silent.

A war cry cut him off, and he had to duck to avoid the bloodied axe that went straight through one of the guys' throat, and over his head. Arthur's eye widened, watching incredulously as the axe hit the far wall with a 'thump', effectively embedding itself in it. He turned away quickly though, when a gargle was heard, and could only stare in shock at his manservant, who was presently holding a blade – which Arthur was sure was in the man's hand before, and not in Merlin's – in the heart of his foe. And wasn't even flinching as blood hit him.

The king of Camelot felt his jaw hit the floor, and was pretty much not able to do anything about it, as he was busy gaping at his hapless, useless, weak, _murdering_ manservant. His eyes met Merlin's, which widened with horror and panic. The manservant opened his mouth.

"I can exp-" he began, voice a bit high-pitched.

There was movement. One of the dead guy _clearly_ wasn't as dead as thought, because his dagger was flying through the air towards Merlin, who reacted so fast it could have been a product of Arthur's imagination. His head snapped up. His eyes flashed gold. The dagger flew in reverse, and in the gut of the _previously-thought-to-be-dead-but-not_ guy, who was now definitely done for. The guy fell in a heap on the floor, his blood joining the others'.

Silence.

Whatever explanation of secret training, whatever hope of hidden combat talent, whatever thought of fighting abilities, Arthur had until then entertained to explain what he just had found out – well, they really didn't compare to the very simple, golden-eyed, conclusion of _bloody magic_.

"Erm," Merlin said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Are you all right, sire ?"

Arthur simply gaped at him some more. Merlin grimaced. This wasn't quite the 'screaming' he had envisioned for this revelation. Sure the assassins in his rooms were a surprise, but they kept the 'heroic, dramatic, tragic' theme. The 'stumbling upon one's manservant to find him expertly murdering people' part, however, was pretty much _not_ what he had hoped. The silent gaping wasn't helping either.

"Sire ?" he repeated, praying that Arthur had not taken _another_ hit to the head – one day there would be repercussions.

"You have magic," Arthur squeaked.

Merlin froze. His mind rewound, stopped, played the moment again. Confirmed what he had thought he heard. Arthur Pendragon had, in fact, squeaked. Right. The warlock tried to get out of his stupor at that fact, and nodded awkwardly.

"I have," he admitted, and felt even more awkward when Arthur simply gaped some more. "I was- well, I was born with it."

"You have magic," Arthur repeated, thankfully not squeaking but still in a pretty shocked voice.

Merlin stared at him, furrowing his brow. Then slowly nodded.

"I have magic, yes," he said, finding it easier to admit the second time. "Are you sure you are feeling well, Arthur ?"

Arthur's gaze, for the first time since the start of this illuminating conversation, swept down to find the bodies. Dead, bloodied bodies. Spilling blood everywhere. From wounds Merlin had inflicted. Violently. Without really blinking. Efficiently too.

"Should I, erm, I don't know," Merlin hesitated. "Call for the guard ? To- well, arrest me ? Or clean the mess ?"

Arthur simply continued to gape dumbly at him. Merlin heaved a sigh. Right. Just as he was about to do something, or say something, or whatever could possibly help with his king's state of shock, the door of Gaius' quarter flew open. Gaius came in, grumbling a little, and deposited a basket on the bench not far from the entrance. Then he turned towards the steps, rose his head – and froze.

The King of Camelot was standing at the entrance to his ward's room, a look of deep shock on his features, staring at said wards and at the – _five dead men spilling blood on the floor ?!_ Gaius rose an eyebrow at the resident warlock. Merlin helplessly stared back, eyes wide. Arthur finally turned away, and pointed Merlin to Gaius in shock.

"He has magic," he said, voice still a bit too high-pitched.

Gaius' eyebrow rose higher on his brow, and he shot Merlin a _look_. Merlin shrugged helplessly. Gaius turned towards Arthur.

"Yes, sire," he finally said. "Merlin has magic. Are you feeling fine ?"

"He has magic," Arthur dumbly repeated.

Gaius stared at him. Turned once more to Merlin, who shook his head. Nodded to himself. The king was quite clearly deep in shock. His eyes found the dead bodies, and he wrinkled his nose. _This_ couldn't be helping much. He looked sharply at Merlin.

"Well, don't stand there, clean this mess !" he said.

"But-" Merlin began, looking lost.

" _Magic_ , Merlin !" Gaius sighed.

Merlin made an 'ah' sound in understanding, and quickly muttered a word. A snap of fingers. A flash of gold. And suddenly, the room was body-free. Another muttered word, snap of fingers, and flash of gold, and with a surprisingly fresh-scented gust of wind, no blood remained either. The floor had never been this clean.

And Arthur had never gaped this much either. Merlin almost winced. If the king wasn't brain-dead before this, he had definitely lost any cognitive functions now. He looked over to Gaius, helplessly, in the universal 'what do we do _now_ ' manner. Gaius, being the tremendous help he always was, simply shrugged and told him helpfully.

"It'll pass on it's own, don't worry," he said. He looked over at his bag. "Now, I have to deliver this headache remedy to the Lady Galavant. Don't do anything stupid."

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but Gaius didn't wait for an answer, and disappeared surprisingly quickly for his advanced age. The servant stared at the open door, then at the gaping king, then at the open door again. He wondered if it was too late to ditch his destiny and go back to his mother. Being a farmer sure sounded good right now. And at least in Ealdor if someone was acting stupid it didn't surprise anyone. You'd think Camelot would be different.

He looked back once more at Arthur, who was still staring at the spotless floor like it had just done something incredible. Like clearing itself of five dead bodies and blood stains. Merlin was starting to grow bored.

"Sire ?" he called, a bit snappish.

"You have magic," Arthur said.

Merlin heaved a sigh, and looked at the ceiling, asking for patience and strength in those trying times. Then, very gently, he nodded.

"Yes, sire," he said, as if talking to a five years old. "I have magic."

"You have _magic_ ," Arthur repeated.

"Yes," Merlin said. "Yes, Arthur, we already assessed that."

Arthur looked at him, and for one blessed minute Merlin thought that finally he was overcoming his shock. Surely his having magic was not _that_ shocking, right ? Uther had once married a troll, for gods sakes ! Nothing could be shocking after that ! Arthur opened his mouth, brow furrowing, eyes intent, and Merlin waited with barely any patience for the king to deliver his verdict-

"You have magic," Arthur said.

Merlin groaned.

It was going to be a long day.

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 **END**

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 **I hope you liked it. It's my first publication in English, which is not my first language, so feedback would be appreciated.**

 **Also, before any of you ask - NO THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL. None is planned, and I doubt that I will continue this.**

 **Thank you for reading, have a great day.**


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